With Even Stronger Reason
by Shine Q
Summary: Trowa Barton is a new attorney handling the biggest divorce case of the century. His client, the most cunning vixen he'd ever come across, tests his willpower as she uses her soon to be ex husband to completely annihilate his code of ethics.
1. Chapter 1

**With Even Stronger Reason  
**Chapter One

It was my first divorce case and decidedly my most difficult. When I joined Yuy & Maxwell, LLP after graduation, I didn't think I would be handling major cases until I'd gotten a taste of underling tasks. In my mind, I was going to do nothing but type and file. I would serve coffee to the higher-ups. I would read manuscripts and prepare drafts only to have them sent to the shredder by someone with more knowledge on the matter. I never expected to be assigned to the biggest divorce case of the century.

Where should I begin? Ah, yes. Yuy and Maxwell are some of my closest friends. Two years my senior, I met them when I was a freshman. Two months into the school year and I was out of the dorms and living as their roommate in a run-down apartment wedged between a porn shop and a Chinese restaurant. Being younger, I used to serve as their errand boy picking up food from the Chinese place to the right and toys from the specialty shop to the left. In exchange, they promised me a surefire position in the illustrious firm they were going to set up after law school. I trusted those two and they managed to keep their promise and not just about the job position either.

Only about three years since its inception, Yuy & Maxwell was an already thriving firm with numerous clients thanks to Duo Maxwell's charming personality and Heero Yuy's impeccable knowledge of the law. Clientele came from all walks of life. Although they had a number of pro bono cases courtesy of Duo, higher profile personalities caught wind of their expertise and hired them with no questions asked. It was only unfortunate that Heero charged enormous amounts of money per the hour.

This was where I came in. A newbie at this kind of thing, Duo introduced me to the practice. The firm I had become a part of dealt exclusively with family law. Divorce was the first thing that would come to most people's minds, but the firm also did cases involving child support, domestic violence, guardianship - you name it. Duo said that he took any case aside from divorce. That was, if the marriage was done in a church. Growing up a Catholic, he thought it was sinful for him to involve himself in an act that separated what God had brought together. I always did wonder if he ever thought his relationship with Heero was just as sinful.

As such, Heero handled almost all of the divorce cases. Heero was a no-nonsense kind of guy. Armed with his textbook-like knowledge, he had yet to turn up with a less than satisfactory result. He'd even managed to get gold diggers their more than fair share of assets. That was the reason why I was stunned when those two decided to assign me to the Winner-Catalonia divorce.

The Winner-Catalonia divorce was the talk of the town even before it became official. The couple, a tabloid favorite, was made of money. The husband, Quatre Winner, stayed mostly out of the public eye despite being a well-known business mogul. Inheriting an unheard of amount of money from his father, he was richer than most even before he exited his mother's womb. It was said that his mother died during child birth holding onto a large piece of rock her son would later inherit. The wife, Dorothy Catalonia, was a notorious socialite. Being an orphan at the tender age of 10, she was raised by her billionaire grandfather. Rumor had it that her crib was made of gold. I didn't doubt it since she did drive a gold car.

Where was I in all this? I was Dorothy Catalonia's lawyer. Yes, that Dorothy Catalonia - the Dorothy Catalonia who took her husband's name but only in private. Even before I met her, I knew she would be a trial. Some people were hard to please then there were others who were impossible to please. I know I'm basing all of this on hearsay, but given the way she acted in public, I'm sure the real her was not a far cry from what everyone else witnessed.

Our first meeting had been intimidating to say the least. Even before she'd taken one step in our building, a large group of people were scanning the place for suspicious items. They were luckyHeero was not around. Otherwise, there would be hell to pay for snooping around his office. Needless to say, these men found nothing. Sometimes I wished they had found something because I did not like the way Dorothy Catalonia made her entrance in the least. Flanked on each side by a bodyguard, she held a little blond on one hand. The boy, who for a while I called Winner Junior, screamed upon their entrance. He was an adorable kid save for the pointed eyebrows that sprung out of his otherwise cute face. The kid was so blond he was almost albino. Even his eyelashes were the lightest shade of blond. Against almost translucent skin, he looked like a ghost.

"Mr. Trowa Barton," the soon to be ex Mrs. Winner greeted me upon entering. "I thought Mr. Yuy would be handling my case."

That was when it struck me. People would be giving me that attitude as long as I was standing behind Heero's domineering shadow. I was okay with that for now, but that didn't mean that it didn't sting.

"Heero has several cases to attend to," I answered although I didn't know it to be true. A little white lie every now and then didn't hurt. That was going to be my mantra for the rest of my career as a lawyer.

"Too busy for a divorce as big as this?" Ms. Catalonia responded with a raise of her strangely split eyebrow. A delicate hand then rested itself against her chest. "I'm very flattered that he chose to delegate such a young, delicious lawyer to stand in my defense," she added.

I was wary of those words. The statement was laced with meaning. Was is a positive or was it a negative? Was it a positive hidden within a negative or the other way around? Was she hitting on me? She wasn't even divorced yet. Besides, I was not interested in her or in any other woman for that matter.

"I will do my best," I answered. Duo did say I had to sweeten the bait before I could reel them in.

"I'm sure you will, Mr. Barton," she said before shooing off her son and her bodyguards out of the conference room. She gave the little boy a flying kiss upon his departure and then she turned to face me.

"As you already know, I'm leaving my husband," she said matter-of-factly.

"And your grounds for--" I started to ask before being cut-off.

"I suppose irreconcilable difference is the way to go, but more specifically, adultery."

I didn't doubt that a rich man would sleep around when he already had a sexy wife. In some ways I pitied her situation, damning Mr. Winner for cheating on her. What person wouldn't sympathize with her circumstances, especially one who'd gone through the same in the past?

"Do you have any assets to divide?" I asked next, to which the response was a hearty laugh.

"I assure you, Mr. Barton, our assets will take more than a few months to itemize."

I digress. That was the wrong question to ask. I should have continued with the line of questioning that had to do with their grounds for divorce.

"Do you have any proof that he cheated on you?"

"I have numerous tapes and photos, Mr. Barton. Would you like to examine them?"

"Maybe later."

I should have thought before I spoke. It was no doubt I sounded like a pervert with the way she laughed. I could not help but feel like I was being mocked. Being young in a profession filled with old fogies was a perilous situation to be in.

"What about child custody?" I then asked to divert the attention away from me to her son.

"We are sharing him with Samuel."

Samuel? Where did this Samuel character come from all of a sudden?

"Samuel, you could say, is the third parent in this relationship," Dorothy explained.

Just then, her son came running body first into the door. Since the door was translucent, I could see his flattened face and striped shirt plastered against the glass. He said 'mommy, look' before pressing his face further into the door. Dorothy, like a good mother, praised her son's antics before lightly scolding him. The boy, probably Satan's spawn, screamed instead. So much sound was coming out of that little mouth that it beat the sound system Duo had installed in his office.

"Sweetie, do mommy a favor and bother the people outside," Dorothy requested.

I could only think of the complaints I would be getting later.

"He looks just like his father," Dorothy said after turning back to face me once again. "With some features from me, of course," she added.

I imagined the kid stretched out. Mr. Winner probably looked like a cute, albino boy with the qualities of a true demon lord. A standard rich man cheating on his wife did tend to bring about that negative image.

"What's his name?" I decided to ask as I stared at the door, fearing the return of the kid.

"Samuel," she responded. "Sam for short."

I did a double-take. What did the statement 'we are sharing him with Samuel' mean then?

"When you said that you were sharing him," I tried to inquire. "You meant?"

Dorothy smiled at me with a look wicked in a way I could not describe. Somehow I knew this was an important point in the matter. There had to be something about this Samuel fellow that made things more complicated.

"I've been married for nine years, Mr. Barton," Dorothy started. It wasn't exactly the answer to my question, but I was patient enough to wait for her to get to her point. "My husband was a virgin at 21 when we married - a true daddy's boy under daddy's wing if you will. He'd never even touched a woman before. His father wanted an heir and my grandfather wanted a grandchild. How did you think that went?"

Interesting - so Mr. Winner didn't know how to work his equipment. Why was it that he was cheating on her now?

"We tried for three years," she continued with a dramatic sigh. "I got impatient, so I brought Samuel home with me. He was a gorgeous man and he was mine. Quatre happened to be home that day and as it turns out, it was Samuel's type that got Quatre's undivided attention. With Samuels' assistance, Sammy was conceived that same night. You could say there were 3 people who created our child. In honor of that, we named our son after him."

Mr. Winner was gay. That was all I could think of as I eyed the white box the bodyguards had left behind. I realized then that I just landed myself with a box full of gay porn. Duo would be so proud. I was going to call him about it but just like a good attorney, I questioned her further.

"But why were you two together for so long?"

Mr. Winner was obviously not interested in her and it was impossible that she didn't know about his issues. Chances are there were hideous amounts of money involved.

"His father couldn't find out," she said as she folded her manicured fingers over her lap. "And my grandfather wanted a family. The reason why I'm getting the divorce now is because my grandfather and his father died in a plane crash. In other words, there is no one left to please."

Fair enough. They stayed in the relationship for the sake of those who cared most for them. It was sad the way things ended - for all of those involved - but if a relationship did not work, it just didn't. This was something Duo never could get a grasp of. To him, marriage was forever.

"Given that you were together for almost a decade, there will be a lot of issues when it comes to property division. Had you been married even longer, this divorce would probably take decades."

"My husband is not a difficult man, Mr. Barton. I have no interest in owning his father's property. We want an amicable divorce."

That sounded simple enough. An uncontested divorce was easy, but there was still the issue of child custody and support.

"Your son--" I started before being cut-off once again.

"I want physical custody of Sam, but I want to share legal custody. I want visitation rights for both Quatre and Samuel."

I scribbled her desires as fast as I could on my notepad, taking note of almost everything she said from their reasons for being together to the third guy in the relationship. This Samuel, whoever he was, was going to make this a difficult case. I could already see the complications. There was a possibility this guy was going to side with one or the other. It was even possible that he would want the kid for himself. I had no background on him, but he already smelled dirty. I would have to meet him and Mr. Winner in person.

"Tell me about your husband," I encouraged. I'm the type of guy who rarely says much. I am more of an observer, a point which Heero had commended me on before. He had said that the skill would make me a great lawyer because in order to solve problems, one must have the ability to not simply find but also concentrate on the solution.

"He's neat and well-groomed," she started. "He wears glasses when he reads or works even if he doesn't have to just because it makes him look sophisticated. He dresses well, never leaves the house with a crease on his shirt. His suits have to be tailored by a designer who has thoroughly studied his body measurements and mannerisms so the clothes could accommodate his movements. He has his skin undergo a moisture-infusing process every other month."

The list went on and on. I could already guess that this guy was one vain egomaniac and stereotypically gay in the grooming sense. Over the top vanity could also be said about Dorothy Catalonia, but the husband sounded a little extreme right now.

"And before I forget the most important part of the description, I have to warn you that my husband is very pretty."

I found myself swallowing my spit. Whether it was because of the warning or the anticipation of a difficult case, I could not tell. Why would I care that he was a pretty man? Actually, I would and given their son, he was probably blond too. Blondes were my biggest weakness. I wondered if she could read me like a book.

"He's about yea high," she continued while using her perfectly delicate hand to indicate his height. All the while she had a very sly smile on her face. "With big, blue eyes and pouty lips…"

Like it or not, she was making me uncomfortable. I didn't know what she was trying to achieve by describing him in that way. Was she playing matchmaker for her husband? But I was her attorney. We were trying to divorce him and if possible, cripple his assets in the process. Of course, this was an unspoken rule between lawyers. Your client has got to want something out of a divorce. Heero had said that if they say they don't want anything, they usually start changing their minds as the battle heats up especially with big divorces such as this.

"Ms. Catalonia," I said with barely a hint of exasperation. "I was more interested in what qualities he had that we could use to our advantage if he ever decides to… complicate things."

"I was getting to that point, Mr. Barton," my client said with a haughty raise of her head. If she was truly annoyed, I did not care. I was not going to be toyed with by my client. I may be young, but I have my qualifications.

"My husband's good looks, which I admit I've enjoyed quite a bit, make it easy for him to involve himself in sexual debauchery with quite a few partners. I'm not saying that I don't have my fair share of exploits. I can't live nine years of celibacy with an unable husband. I'm telling you to use his unusual 'preferences' to my advantage."

She had pulled out the shame card. I admired the way she had thought this through. Being married to a gay man constituted the "humiliation" clause. She probably wanted to use this to get physical custody of her son. Despite more tolerant changes in the recent years, it was still difficult to get custody of a child when one was homosexual. I wondered if she knew my similar preferences in choice of partners. If she did, did she consider that I could be offended?

"Can you prove that he sleeps with men?" I asked. Lucky for her I wasn't offended in the least.

"Are your sources credible?" I followed-up. This was a question that needed to be asked again and again. I was aware that she had tapes and pictures, but chances were that we had to prove the legitimacy of these exhibits. They had to have been done by a third party professional who had no vested interest in the matter.

I knew that there were people who collaborated with each other in a fraudulent manner. It was possible that the wife would give a percentage of her so-called winnings to the person who made certain items possible. It could be that this third person skillfully manipulated images.

"Check the pictures yourself," Dorothy suggested before opening a folder and scattering several images in front of me. Suddenly, the conference room table did not look big enough to accommodate them.

The first thought that came to my mind was that adultery never looked so good. I could pinpoint Mr. Winner almost immediately as it became obvious that he did look like his son. True enough, Dorothy Catalonia's husband was quite the looker and in the heat of passion he could easily bring a straight man to tears. I could not get my eyes off the black and white images so clearly taken with a professional camera.

"I can assure you, Mr. Barton. That is my husband's body, not his head attached to a picture of a random body."

"I might have to see that with my own eyes," my mouth said out of its own accord. I made no move to save face, making my client take that statement at face value.

My eyes happened to land on a particular image which I'm sure I would later consider my favorite. Mr. Winner was fully bear and kneeling. Another man was behind him with an arm wrapped around his torso and the other disappearing into the picture. Simply suggestive and nothing more, the blond had his head slightly thrown back as the lucky bastard behind him nipped on a perfectly sculpted neck. The look on Mr. Winner's face was inexplicable. I would hire this camera man without question.

"Please do examine them, Mr. Barton," Dorothy said after a good half-minute of observing me. If you looked closely enough at my eyes, you would figure out that they give me away.

I only nodded as she continued to watch me. I knew she was plotting something, but for now, just for a little bit, nothing existed but me, my perversity, and the adulterous pictures.


	2. Chapter 2

**With Even Stronger Reason****  
**Chapter Two

It was a night of pornographic delights as I liked to think of it. As I got up this morning, I was still half asleep. Last night had been eventful. I had invited my friends, heathens that they are, for a viewing session of the finest of Winner erotica. I had thought it would be an irresponsible and ultimately sinful escape from the gruesome task of defending folks who considered us cash-hungry monsters. Yes, I'm referring to all those lawyer jokes. I've heard all of them.

Aside from several reminiscent recollections from Duo about our law school days, the night had been pretty much silent. Duo and Heero had been lip-locking and petting most of the evening before deciding to go lock themselves in my room and retire, quite raucously, until sunrise. They could have at least made a mad dash for their condo, but that was beside the point. I, however, had been grossly concentrated on my man. Naked as he was in the videos, I had been mostly concentrated on his face. I had never seen a more beautiful visage in my life and I use the term sparingly. He was aesthetically pleasing to my eye and highly potent to my libido. He was also the adversary in my newest case.

I groaned as I stretched on the couch which had been my refuge for the night. All grown up and still someone's lackey; that was what Duo called me as he happily claimed my room. I had flicked him off then, but I knew it to be true. Even back in the day, Duo did like to take advantage of my youth and indifference. Heero just went along with it most of the time as if he had no say in the matter. That was fine with me. I didn't need my room. After that affair with a wayward, handsome professor, I no longer shared my bed with anyone.

"Breakfast, anyone?" Duo called out as he exited my bedroom with the widest of smiles I've seen on him in a while. I'm glad I could help.

Heero soon followed close behind him.

"Two scrambled eggs and a toast," Heero said without any inflection in his voice. The only indication that he was just as satisfied was the slap that followed on Duo's ass.

"Not in front of the kids," Duo reprimanded with a laugh and a wink directed toward me. It was the second time I flicked him off within 24 hours.

"Just make me some coffee," I said as I held my head against my hand. There was no way I was going to stay awake for the rest of the day. I had been a bit… busy most of the night.

"Just a coffee?" Duo echoed.

"You're going to need more than that if you're facing Chang today," Heero followed up.

I immediately lifted my head from my hands.

"Did you say Chang?" I asked with a bit of horror.

"Yes Chang," Duo responded as he broke an egg on the side of a bowl. "And I mean Wufei Chang."

My nightmare had come true. Wufei Chang, or Chang Wufei as he preferred it, was one of the toughest (if not the toughest) attorneys in town. He was smart, sharp, and strict - the three Ss that had made him what he was today. Attorneys would cry at his feet after their defeat. Judges worshipped him like a god. His knowledge of the law was in par with Heero if not more. He was professional and disciplined. Paired with Quatre Raberba Winner, wealthiest of the wealthy, they were unstoppable.

"Geez, didn't you read the response to your petition for dissolution? His name is right at the top of the page. Chang & Associates is written in bold, capped letters."

"Heero?" was all I could say as I looked at my mentor. I did read the documents the other party had filed, but I failed to check who I was up against. As far as I was concerned, I was only going to be battling Mr. Winner. How was I to know that he hired the cream of our crop?

"Good luck," Heero said. "You'll need it."

Five words of encouragement were all I relied upon as I rushed to the office building a little more than ten minutes late for my meeting. I hadn't even made it there and I was already making a bad impression. Had this been a court hearing, I would have already been sanctioned. After Duo had so helpfully dropped my mug of coffee on my suit amidst his laughter, I had already considered myself late, so late in fact that Dorothy would fire me the first chance she got. I tried to calm down and think up a good excuse. Our firm needed this case. In fact, I needed this case too.

"Please let them be late," I thought over and over again. If they were late too then at least that would mean that by comparison, I was just on time.

"How nice of you to join us this fine morning, Mr. Barton." It was the sole greeting I received upon entering.

Surveying the room did little to quell my fears as I saw three people already occupying their seats. Dorothy looked devilish as she sat there with a knowing smile on her face. At least I wasn't going to get fired. It was a surprise that the murderous aura Chang was giving off did not bother my ostensibly satisfied client one bit. Dark, black eyes stared at me as if I was the most despicable human being on the planet. Wufei Chang obviously valued punctuality.

"Good morning, counsel."

Cutting through the thick air of animosity was a voice I loved even before I heard. I felt a tingle in my spine as I turned to face the owner of the voice. Staring at the latest object of my desires, I realized that almost everything of what my client said was true. This guy, Quatre Raberba Winner, spent a good half day or so on his appearance. His hair was combed neatly, parted to the side with fringes of bangs delicately arranged to frame his face. His hands were clean with his fingers having gone through a very thorough manicure. His skin looked soft and vibrant as if treated with a generous helping of mink oil and buttermilk. His clothes were neatly pressed and his posture too close to Chang's. A pair of glasses was sitting atop his nose only to leave its position when he looked up to address me.

"Good morning," I said in return.

Call me vain, but this guy was staring at me more intently than I was him. As I sat, I noticed the slight, almost imperceptible upward tilt of his lip. Oh yes, he definitely thought I was one gorgeous catch.

"Mr. Barton," Dorothy voiced and I knew it was not her intention to interrupt Mr. Winner's viewing pleasure. "I'd like to introduce you to my husband Quatre and his attorney Mr. Chang. Quatre, Mr. Chang, this, as you may already know, is my lawyer Mr. Trowa Barton."

"It's a pleasure, Mr. Barton," Dorothy's soon to be ex said as he offered his hand in greeting. I took it with little enthusiasm and more cordial professionalism as the situation called upon. Hand-licking was not an option, especially not with Chang as witness. I doubted that Dorothy would care either way.

"Mr. Barton," Chang soon followed, also accepting my hand in greeting. Where was Winner junior when you needed someone to cut through the formal air?

"I'd rather we get straight to the point," Chang said next. My attention was taken away from Mr. Winner for the meantime. "My client wants all the assets divided very meticulously before being distributed to the appropriate parties. He also wants full, physical custody of their son Samuel."

"Then there are terms to discuss," I replied with a comeback of my own. "My client has no desires for her husband's money. There should be no disagreements on that matter. However, my client also wants full, physical custody of their son."

"Sam prefers my place," Quatre Winner interrupted all the while addressing only me.

"Hah! If Sammy was given the choice, he would live with Samuel and not either of us, especially not you. You work too much," Dorothy responded. I was ready for this. Let the battle begin.

"Samuel is not his father," Mr. Winner said. The tilt of his head caused his bangs to bounce the slightest bit. "Samuel is too lenient and not to mention too young to raise our boy."

"I was not suggesting anything of the sort, dear Quatre," Dorothy said in response as a French manicured finger laid itself against her lip. "Next time, maybe you'll learn to listen more clearly to what I say instead of concentrating on my attorney."

She said her last statement with a slight smirk.

"Then what are you suggesting?" Mr. Winner responded, obviously ignoring the innuendo about me.

"Sammy should live with his mother. If he would like to visit with you or Samuel every now and then, I have no problem with that."

I could only wonder if Chang was aware of this third party called Samuel. The way they were talking about the guy, it almost seemed like he was the third parent. I almost had the urge to demand Samuel's attendance immediately. If the case ever got nasty, there would be another attorney I'd have to duke it out with. I only hoped it was not going to be anybody as intimidating as Chang.

"If this Samuel is part of the custody issue then there is every reason for him to be present at this meeting," Chang voiced what I could only think of. We were thinking the same thoughts after all. "Who is Samuel anyway?"

I felt vindicated. Chang did not know what he was dealing with. It became apparent that Mr. Winner had never mentioned the complications of a third party to his attorney. At least I had come in with more knowledge on the matter than the almighty one. I knew who Samuel was.

"He bedded us both when our son was conceived," Dorothy responded with not a hint of embarrassment in her voice. "He made my husband deliver when he couldn't do it on his own."

To that, Mr. Winner became flustered. I could not get over how attractive the fine dusting of pink had turned out on his cheeks. His hand immediately took refuge on the first item he could grab. I just assumed that it was his reaction to an uncontrolled situation. The pen, the object of his refuge, suffered against the onslaught of his fingers.

"If it was your intention to embarrass me at this meeting, then you can claim your victory now, Dorothy," Mr. Winner said. The lawyer at his side did not react.

"You should know by now that it is always my victory, sweet Quatre," my client responded. For some reason, I believed her and that was slightly reassuring.

"I have heard quite enough," Chang interjected, probably to fan the flames of hostility that had started to build up. "Until we get a hold of this Mr. Samuel, there is nothing more we can discuss. We should arrange another meeting at another convenient time. I should hope that all required to be present will be on time."

That last line was meant for me, but I acted like it was meant for someone else.

"Call my secretary to set up an appointment," Chang commanded. I could only nod. I was my own secretary. Duo would laugh at my face if I ever requested for him to act as my assistant.

Our small group dispersed almost immediately. Dorothy pecked me on the cheek before rushing off to who knows where. Chang led his client out the door, whispering a few words to him on the way out. It was not long before he, too, disappeared. It was only Mr. Winner and I who lingered a bit longer. I supposed it was mutual attraction that assisted our body language.

"Have you met my son?" Mr. Winner addressed me as I exited the door behind him.

"Yes. He looks just like you," I answered. I held my tongue about how adorable his son was. Giving away too much just wasn't my style.

"Does he like you?" Mr. Winner asked next. He proceeded to button his suit. He failed to look at me.

"I'm not sure," I said while wondering about the random questions. I almost hoped he would ask me out for dinner, but I already knew it was unprofessional. I had my ethics to uphold. I shouldn't have even been talking to this guy. He was represented by a lawyer.

"Have you seen them?" Mr. Winner then asked. He finally raised his head to look at me. The question was straightforward as was the expression on his face.

"Seen what?" I tried to clarify. This question and answer session wasn't amusing me much. It just worked to fill the dull void that started to permeate our blank space. I wondered if it was awkwardness, but Mr. Winner looked anything but awkward.

"The videos," he specified. He didn't look at all embarrassed or as disturbed as he was earlier in the conference room. The words were said matter-of-factly as if I should have already expected it. Unfortunately, it was the last topic I was expecting to discuss with him - ever.

I coughed after having swallowed my own spit. How would he even know I had them? My reaction in and of itself had given me away. I did not know what to do - deny it despite the obvious or admit it with a straight face. There was nothing wrong with watching them. They were a part of our exhibits. Everything I had done thus far was legal. Well, talking to him without representation was not the right thing to do, but at least it wasn't illegal.

"Watch out for my wife."

It was all Mr. Winner had to say to end the conversation before leaving my sight altogether. Bodyguards were all I saw when I looked out the window to follow him. His black Mercedes Maybach drove off quickly with its precious carriage already inside. I wondered what Dorothy had planned for all of us.

"Now that was short, wasn't it?"

I almost jumped as I felt a hand, most probably Duo's, on my shoulder. I was not even aware that Duo and Heero were already at the office.

"We need Samuel to be here," I answered just as Heero passed by with a file in his hand. He went straight for his office with no inquiries on how my first meeting with Chang and Mr. Winner went.

"You mean daddy number two?" Duo asked.

"Yes, daddy number two," I responded.

"What did Chang think of you?"

"You mean aside from irresponsible and behind schedule?"

Duo lightly bumped me on the head with his fist. It was an act of brotherly endearment I never did get used to. He flipped his pen into the air and let it spin a few times before catching it with his other hand.

"Chang will be Chang. He's a hard-ass. Don't worry too much about what he thinks because practically everyone to him is worth as much as trash."

I merely stared at Duo. His words were not encouraging in the least. In some ways Duo was just like Heero. The only difference was that Heero used fewer words. They were both ineffective supporters. Nonetheless, I was grateful for their good intentions.

"Mr. Winner, Quatre," I started again. "He asked me about his son."

"Did he now?" Duo said before making himself comfortable on an empty chair.

"He also asked me if I've seen the videos."

"…And you said?"

"I didn't have to say anything. It was all over my face."

"Maybe he was only asking you if you saw it, not if you watched it," Duo said with a wag of his index finger. "But you did answer the imminent follow up question anyway. At least it saves him the trouble of asking it."

I sent Duo a look that told him I wasn't pleased with the turn of events.

"Maybe he wanted you to see it," Duo suggested.

"And that helps how?" I questioned.

"You don't even have to tell me, Tro," Duo responded. "Both Heero and I could see it all over you. You're into the guy. He's blond. He's pretty. He's older than you. He's everything you're into."

"Probably not everything," I murmured to myself. Surely I wasn't into men who were married to Machiavellian wives.

"He warned me about his wife," I informed Duo as Dorothy came to mind.

"Now that, I have to agree with," Duo said before patting me on the back. "Here," he said next as he stood to hand me a file. "This one's yours too. It's another divorce, this time uncontested. You should be done in a snap. The client will be here after lunch. Relax for the rest of the morning. We'll be doing a lot of work in the next couple of weeks."

I nodded and took the file with little attention to what I was getting. I knew Duo was busy too, so I decided to take refuge at my own office. On the way there, I stopped to close the conference room door. That was when my eyes landed on something. In the seat Dorothy had taken was a white card with gold edges. I was going to leave it where it was and get the cleaning crew to figure out where to trash it, but it was inexplicably tempting. I backtracked into the room and picked up the card already knowing there would be trouble. After all, Dorothy, from what I've learned in the past few weeks I've associated with her, does everything with reason.

I picked up the card and examined what was written in neat cursive. It was an address with a date and time specified. I knew better than to call Dorothy and tell her she left something. Most likely, she had planned this beforehand. Chances were that she wanted me at the indicated address at the designated time and date. I paused for a moment, deciding whether or not I would be there. My common sense seemed to have left the building as I stuffed the card into my pocket, the hour and place of the meeting memorized. I would show up. What harm could it do anyway?


	3. Chapter 3

**With Even Stronger Reason****  
**Chapter Three

It was exactly twelve noon when I made my appearance at the Babbo Restaurant in the trendiest district of town. Surrounded by towering buildings, I almost did not find it. Despite being a lawyer, I still spent my meager earnings on fast food joints and take-out eateries. I really had to talk to Heero about cutting me a bigger share of our profits. Still, I had to prove myself by winning a couple of cases.

"Do you have a reservation with us for today, sir?" the receptionist asked as I entered. I felt his snobbish sniff as he examined my discount store suit and cheap tie. I felt the urge to stuff said discount items down his throat for being so obnoxious.

"No," I answered with a sniff of my own. The least I could do was uphold my dignity by behaving as obnoxiously as he did.

"Then I'm afraid--"

I held my index finger up to prevent him from saying any more and kicking me out. This guy was underestimating me. I may be young but I didn't leave law school without some tips on problem solving. Therefore, I used the only means of success I could think of at the moment.

"I am Dorothy Catalonia's lawyer," I proclaimed loud enough for the receptionist and a few other patrons to hear. After all, Dorothy Catalonia's side always wins.

Once an abhorrent prick, this man's demeanor changed almost immediately. I was satisfied when I saw the swift change from arrogance to fear. He quickly presented me with a fake smile accompanied with a genial hand directing me to the first server he could find. I was given one of the better tables with a view of the bustling city just outside. Perhaps throwing Dorothy's name around every now and then was the key to success.

"What drink would you like, sir?" I was asked. I looked up at the server to find him attentive to whatever it was I had to say. However, when I almost got my order out of my mouth, he spew forth a list of wines I had never heard of in my life. "We have Chateau Lafite 1787, Jeroboam Chateau Mouton-Rothschild 1945, or perhaps a good 1775 Sherry, or a 1784 Chateau d'Yquem--"

I interrupted him before he could go any further. None of those sounded within my budget range although the Sherry dating back to 1775 sounded promising. I wondered if Dorothy was footing the bill, but I did not want to take any chances. I was not willing to go broke on wine. Maybe I would at some other time, but not at the point in my life when I had student loans to pay off.

"Just a coffee," I said. He looked at me like I had a fever.

"Very well, sir," he said before leaving me to decipher their menu.

Alas, I was not well-versed with the five, six, or seven course extravaganzas. I've had Gnocchi once but did not enjoy it. Crème fraîche made my stomach ache. Truffles on anything were out of the question and pine nuts made my hands swell. Most importantly, I could not afford any of the food listed on the menu. I was a fast-food joint guy after all.

I was not given any more time to think when my server returned once again. With him was a chilled bottle on ice and a wine glass. I tried to hide my horror at the sight of the year plastered on the bottle. I did not order the drink. I was not going to take one sip of it.

"That wasn't what I ordered," I said with a stern voice when my server was close enough. I was not going to pay for the drink. I was not going to wash their dishes for them either.

"Sherry wine 1775 compliments of Mrs. Winner, sir," I was told.

While my server poured me a drink, my eyes darted left and right to look for the source of my expensive drink. A once over of the entire restaurant did not reveal Dorothy. I did, however, catch a glimpse of one Mr. Winner in one of the more secluded areas of the restaurant.

"Will Mrs. Winner be joining me today?" I asked the waiter as my eyes continued to scan the crowd.

"Mrs. Winner apologizes but she will not be able to join you today, sir. She has requested that we recommend the finest in our menu. She has also asked us to inform you that your meal will be compliments of her as a thank you for your services."

I was getting a free meal. My eyes momentarily left the crowds in time for my brain to digest the situation. I was not only getting a free meal. I was also getting an expensive free meal with the best view in town. From where I was seated, I could clearly see Mr. Winner in all his glory. I wanted to kiss Dorothy for being such a conniving witch, but she was nowhere to be found.

"Very well then," I said as I placed the menu down on the table. "I will leave myself to your mercy," I said before concentrating once again on Mr. Winner.

I knew Dorothy had planned this. I knew it from the start. When she left that golden card in the conference room, I knew she was up to something. I should have been prepared. I knew that I should be walking away from the situation to preserve my ethical duties as a lawyer. Nevertheless, I sat there and damned that woman again and again. I spied on Mr. Winner. All my muscles commanded me to approach him. One sip of the luxurious wine and I was just about ready to walk up to him. My tolerance for alcohol really was that low. I damned her again for knowing that.

I stood with my knees slightly adamant of what I was about to do. My body went haywire as my mind tried to control it. Part of me wanted to approach him and have lunch with him. The other part of me wanted to preserve my self-respect by going against what Dorothy had planned. In the end, I did not have to decide for myself because a young man approached Mr. Winner's table and took the seat across from him. I let myself sag on my seat to watch and nurse my delicious aperitif. Right on cue, my first course was delivered to my table.

"For our first course you will find blue fin tuna tartar mixed with shallots on a bed of baby spinach, topped with delicate pecans roasted in honey with a dash of balsamic vinegar. Please enjoy."

My fork landed on my meal without the assistance of my eyes. My server looked horrified as I massacred the chef's fine creation with not a note of appreciation in my eyes. I was concentrated on Mr. Winner and the way his hand landed ever so softly and suggestively over the unidentified young man's hand. Was he massaging that hand?

"Is there anything wrong with the fish, sir?" I was asked.

"How old do I look?" I questioned as I turned to look at my server.

"Pardon me?"

"How old do I look?"

"...About late twenties or early thirties, sir."

"I'm only twenty-three," I said with a half growl.

He liked them young. Was I not young enough? Did I have to be pubescent; lacking body hair; baby faced to the point of being illegal? Besides, how old was that boy anyway? He looked fresh out of high school. Why was Mr. Winner, my Mr. Winner, meeting with a young boy at an expensive restaurant? Was he paying the boy? I was available and free.

I ran my fingers over my hair. My tuna tartar was sumptuous now that my tongue finally got a taste of it. It calmed me down if just for a little while.

"This is delicious," I said as I blinked in surprise. I had thought that all that Chinese food Duo had been feeding me over the years had annihilated my taste buds.

"The chef will be pleased to hear that, sir," my server said before leaving me be.

I took another bite of my first course. Mr. Winner had progressed to whispering something into the young man's ear. The reaction to the whispered words was a giggle in merriment. Hah! I could giggle too. That was, if I were so damn drunk I didn't know what I was doing.

I frowned for whatever that was worth. I rarely reacted to anything and I doubted that my frown got across to anyone witnessing my semi-breakdown. I thought that there had been a connection between me and Mr. Winner. I thought it was mutual attraction that I sensed. The guy couldn't take his eyes off of me the other day. Those luscious lips looked like they wanted to be all over me.

"Your second course, sir," my server said after having appeared out of nowhere. I didn't even notice that my plate was already gone. "We have thinly sliced Kobe beef served with mild soy sauce accompanied with a bit of red and brown rice mixed with dried cranberries. Please enjoy."

"That guy," I said without paying attention to my meal. "Does he come here often?"

"Mr. Winner, sir?" my server asked. "Why, yes. He is always here for lunch."

"Does he," I started as I tried to configure my words before saying it. "Does he always meet with those?" I said as I pointed to the young man he was having lunch with.

My server, god bless him, coughed in discomfiture. He loosened his bowtie and tried to compose himself before addressing my question.

"Yes," he said. I could tell liars apart and this man was no liar.

"And where do you suppose they go afterwards?" I questioned next.

"To the hotel across the street, sir," my sever said. I looked up at him in slight admiration for his straightforwardness. I would not be able to tell if he worked for Dorothy, but he seemed sincere enough. There would have been no gain for him either way. My server winked at me in recognition of my understanding of the situation. I thanked him with a head nod before fishing whatever bills I had in my pockets and handing them to him. Mr. Winner would get a different kind of visitor this afternoon.

Gulping the rest of my drink down in one go, I decided that now was the time to approach Mr. Winner's table. A few steps were all it took. The look on Mr. Winner's face was priceless.

"Shouldn't you be in school, boy?" I whispered into the ear of the pretty young man who was Mr. Winner's companion for the time being.

"Who are you?" the boy asked.

"Your principal, you little delinquent," I continued to whisper into the boy's ear. "And if you don't get back to school this instant, I'll tell your parents you've been meeting with rich, old men to suck them off in exchange for booze and drug money."

"Fuck off," the boy said before gathering his things and leaving us alone.

Mr. Winner was looking at me with a raised eyebrow, a perfectly groomed raised eyebrow.

"Quite the vulgar vocabulary you have there, Mr. Barton," he said with his hands folded and resting atop the table.

"Quite the illegal past-time you indulge yourself in, Mr. Winner," I said in response.

Mr. Winner laughed. If he was embarrassed, I could not really tell. He directed his hand toward the empty seat in front of him as an invitation to join him. Fixing his tie in an unconscious effort to make himself more presentable, he leaned back on his seat and examined me.

"He's probably older than you, Mr. Barton," he started. "He just looks young."

His eyes, the same ones that looked at me hungrily just a few days ago, inspected me with calculating precision. Perhaps he was not much different from Dorothy.

"I can see why your wife divorced you," I said, crossing my arms against my chest.

"Oh, really?" Mr. Winner answered with full-blown curiosity for my approach. "Are you also aware that Dorothy meets with hordes of men the same way I do? And are you also aware that I am represented by an attorney and therefore not required to speak with you?"

"I was looking out for the welfare of the young man you were about to accost," I lied through my teeth. It was a good enough excuse to be with him if even for just a bit.

"Accost?" Mr. Winner said with another laugh. "Accost is such a strong word. He was no prostitute. He was my - shall we say - boyfriend?"

"If you weren't so gorgeous, I'd punch you," I said without thinking first. This guy was a trial to talk to. He was such a maze that I lost myself in the conversation. I was mad at him for being caught soliciting the company of a young man. I was jealous because I was not the first choice. I was also resentful enough that I would use this incident in our case against him. The judge wouldn't let his son near him if he knew of his exploits with young males.

Mr. Winner looked serious all of a sudden and seemed to consider his words before saying anything more. A clean hand grabbed a hold of the fork beside his plate. I was a little worried that he would stab me.

"That boy looked a little like you, wouldn't you agree, Mr. Barton," my adversary asked me.

"What does that have to do with anything?" I asked instead.

"He is actually twenty-five."

"Again, what does that have to do with anything?"

"You think I'm gorgeous."

I paused. I did let that slip out earlier. Yes, I thought he was more than gorgeous. I wanted him for myself. If he would just shut up then everything would be just fine. I damned Dorothy again for making me serve as her spy. There could have been better ways to deal with something like this.

"I have an attorney," he said when I did not respond to his statement. "You are my wife's attorney. We should not be talking to each other outside of that context."

"Again," I said before being cut-off.

"Had I been given the choice, you would be my bed companion for this afternoon, Mr. Barton," he said with candor. "But as it is, you are my wife's lawyer. As such, I have to find a suitable replacement for you. I'm severely disappointed that you do not approve of my closest pick, but I hope you find it in your heart to feel flattered that I would go through such great lengths to replicate you."

My mouth felt stale and my blood was rushing out of my head into a place that needed no blood at the moment. In my mind, I begged Dorothy to fire me now. I knew it. He was into me too.

"To find that you consider me attractive - I am very honored, Mr. Barton."

"Your wife is the devil," I said out of nowhere.

"She brought you to this place," Mr. Winner stated. No questions needed to be asked because it all became obvious the moment I showed up before him.

"That hotel across the street," I suggested.

"I have no intention of assisting you in losing your license, Mr. Barton," he said with a strict voice, one he probably used on his underlings. "Sleeping with the enemy may sound risqué and all the more exciting but our association within the realm of your work should come first."

"I've watched most of the videos from the private eye," I admitted.

"And you don't have to tell me what effect it had on you," Mr. Winner said with a frown. He was serious about not sleeping with me. He didn't want to ruin me and here I was insisting on ruining myself.

"Mr. Yuy and Mr. Maxwell made the right decision in hiring you," he said next and that was the one that hit me. If I slept with this guy then I wasn't ruining only myself. I was taking Duo and Heero down with me. After all they'd done for me, I owe it to them to behave properly and do my duty as an attorney of their firm. My lonely and hungry libido will have to wait until a latter time.

I grabbed his wrist with uncharacteristic brutality and pulled him toward me. Whispering harshly in his ear, I tried to make sure that he heard every bit of what I had to say.

"You're mine the moment you're divorced," I said.

His response was to crush his lips against mine in an equally brutal kiss. I don't know if the patrons of the restaurant witnessed the unfolding of a complication. I don't know if reporters caught a glimpse of their soon to be prized news. I don't know if my server thought ill of me for involving myself in such an act. I don't know if Mr. Winner and his soon to be lover would survive the tabloids that were sure to follow. All I know was that I was being kissed by my dream.

"Hotel," I growled with insistence. I was young and active. I was not going to let this go.

To my surprise, Mr. Winner did not protest. He left several large bills on the table and pulled me out of the restaurant. We crossed the street haphazardly. By the time we were at the hotel's front desk, we were both out of breath.

"Mr. Winner," the receptionist said with a smile. "Same suite?" she asked.

Mr. Winner only had to nod before he was given a key. I was all over him the moment we stepped into the elevator. This was it. I was going to lose my license because I couldn't use my brain in harried situations such as this.

"I've wanted you ever since I saw you," I told him between kisses.

Mr. Winner responded with a sigh and then a groan.

"You're not supposed to," he said before we made it to the suite. I bypassed the large living room and dining area for the bedroom. No other protests were heard from then on. All I could think of as I continued my attack was what Duo and Heero would think of me. Their disapproval would have to wait until later because for now, all I could deal with was one selfish and unscrupulous desire at a time.


	4. Chapter 4

**With Even Stronger Reason  
**Chapter Four

It was not a good idea to let my client's kid run around my office while said client was out to 'pick-up' a few things. I knew better than to believe that Dorothy was indeed picking up a few things. She was probably out with some random man competing with her husband in their apparent and wholly inexplicable race to bed the entire male population of this town of one million three hundred thousand sixty four and counting. I was infuriated to say the least.

Winner junior (I prefer not to call him Sam) was causing havoc. I would have dropped him off with Duo who was great with kids, but Attorney Maxwell was in the zone. It was a rare occurrence when he worked with so much concentration that he did not care for anything around him. I had a feeling he had a deadline coming up soon. Talk about procrastination. Even Heero was locked up in his office with a deadline to meet. That left me as the sole babysitter in the entire firm. Oh, and did I forget to mention that Junior was my client's kid and therefore my responsibility?

"Trowa," the child said probably noticing my tense shoulders and silent stare.

"I would prefer it if you called me Mr. Barton," I responded.

"Preference denied," he replied. I felt a time bomb full of anger explode in my head. "Trowa, have you met my father?"

"Yes." My answer was terse.

"Do you like him?"

"No." This response was heated. Yes, I did like Quatre, but I was dead set on murdering Mr. Winner. After several clandestine encounters with the guy amidst the frenzy of passion, I was yet to receive the gift of exclusivity. I may as well have been sleeping with the entire town the way he'd been sampling every part of it.

"You should look again."

"What?" I asked a little louder than I should have.

"My father is very pretty."

I tensed. This kid sounded too much like Dorothy. Those pointed fringes at the tip of his brows mocked me with every wag, lift, and pause. Was he selling his father to me or was he just mimicking his mother? Even I wouldn't use the word pretty. He was probably copying the mother who was absent at the moment. In some ways I pitied the kid. With parents like the ones he had, I would rather have given him to this Samuel fellow I had yet to meet.

"Who would you prefer to live with?" I decided to ask. Sometimes it was better to get the answer from the source. If he did not want to live with his mother then that meant I was going to break his heart if I ever won Dorothy the custody. If he did not want to live with his father then all the better for me - in so many ways.

"You," Winner junior responded. "I want to live with you."

I felt myself blink. It was either I was confused or manipulated. Both mother and father loved manipulating me, so I would not be surprised if this kid was doing it too.

"Why me?" I asked to clarify his response.

"You're pretty," he responded before screaming 10 decibels more than necessary and swiping my wood-carved nameplate off the table. The gift from my sister survived the abuse but caused a dull thud as it hit the carpeted floor.

"Huh," I said, ignoring the ruckus. That was probably the line his mother used to pick up pretty boys off the street. I wondered what Mr. Winner used.

My cell phone went off just as I thought that with the caller ID revealing one Mr. Quatre Raberba Winner calling. I took the call while keeping an eye on the kid who ran back and forth on the hallway just outside my office door.

'Want to fuck, gorgeous?' was the greeting I received. I don't know if I would have preferred him calling me pretty instead. Somehow, pretty sounded purer and unsoiled.

"I'm with your spawn," I responded with a frown. Why did he want custody of this kid when he didn't even know where junior was or who he was with?

"Oh," he responded. I couldn't tell if he sounded disappointed or not. "Where is his mother?"

"Probably out doing what you were proposing to do," I said with a shrug. These people were monsters. If I had Duo's patience, I would adopt this kid and save him the heartbreak of inattentive parents.

"I'll call my attorney."

"What?" I said with mild surprise. "Whatever for?" I followed-up.

"I want to pick my son up from your office and since we have a temporary custody order from the judge, I can't come near him unless I'm scheduled for it. If you've already forgotten, I'm set for Tuesdays, Thursdays, and Saturdays. Today is Friday."

I fished the thick folder of Winner pleadings from the growing number of Winner-related files collected in my office. Going through the pages, it took me a bit of time before I landed on said temporary order. He was right.

"Fine," I said. "But he has to be with someone - and I don't care who - very soon because I have a mediation for another case in three hours."

The look on Quatre's face was asking me if I still had time for a quickie anyway. Why was I sleeping with this guy again? He was trouble.

"I'll be there soon," he said and believe me when I say that it was a little too soon.

Not even after Winner junior's twelfth scream did I hear the roar of a helicopter just outside my window. Upon further inspection, I noticed the gigantic and very intricately designed W plastered on the side of the aircraft. I was not even aware that our building had a helipad.

Duo suddenly stepped into my office and delivered only three words before disappearing again into his own office.

"Deal with it," he said before hauling Winner junior into my office and shutting the door as he left. Winner junior stared at me. I stared back.

"You told daddy you didn't want me," he said with an accusatory look. I never promised him that I would keep him. I had no answer to that. Therefore, I continued to stare back at him.

"If you want my daddy, you'll have to go through me first."

Now that, if I ever heard one from a child, was a threat. Next time, I should learn how to pick my adversaries. Being in this kid's good graces was probably the best means of winning both this case and my complex situation. Still, junior should have gone along with his mother in her underhanded methods to conjoin me and Mr. Winner. If this got any uglier, Samuel would surely show up when I wanted to see him the least.

The knock on my door came as junior sustained his disappointed and threatening stare at me.

"Come in," I said.

The first thing I saw was a big, burly man who immediately handed me a document and retrieved the Winner heir from my floor. The document was unsigned by the judge and had probably not been filed with the court. It was invalid.

"This is not valid," I repeated my thought. They could not have filed it with the court in the time it took them to get here.

"My lawyer said it wouldn't be," Mr. Winner confirmed after stepping out from behind the burly man. "But I'm not letting you leave my son in your office unsupervised."

"Sammy boy," a third person said. This was all before I ever consented to letting Winner junior out of Dorothy's custody for the day. From behind the burly man appeared another person who took junior out of said man's arms. Junior looked torn between annoyance and happiness as he let himself be transferred to a younger man's care.

"You should know better. I do not have your wife's consent," I said. My words were brutal. How dare he show up in my office to take his son away from my client without the proper paperwork and with another one of his toys in tow. I stared at this new man who was talking delightedly with junior.

"Have you met Samuel?" Quatre asked with a smirk when he noticed my discomfort and apparent rage. He wore his glasses today making him look a little older and more sophisticated than usual. I wanted him bad.

"Obviously not," I said as I held my head up in an attempt to be pompous and arrogant.

Samuel, who did not seem like the type to hold grudges, waved his hand at me in greeting.

"Nice to meet you," he said to me before addressing Quatre. "I can see why Dotty picked him."

Winner junior pushed away from Samuel in order to be let down. When his feet touched the ground, he immediately took the toy off the big man's hand and sat in a corner to play. My eyes strayed to the kid. That was the trick. Next time, I would bring a toy so he could behave better.

My eyes strayed back to Samuel once again only to find his malicious right hand positioned comfortably on the small of Quatre's back. His thumb was moving in a smooth, circular pace against Quatre's lower spine as they discussed something in soft voices. I would do everything in my power to give this guy the biggest headache he ever experienced in court. I already thought of hiring someone to follow him around and dig the dirty secrets off his closet. From the way she talked about him, Dorothy seemed to like this guy as well, so there was no use in soliciting her help in that matter.

"Are we finished here yet?" I said. Quatre turned to look at me before addressing the entourage that had followed him to my office.

"Please allow us some privacy for a few minutes," he requested.

My office was vacated. Even junior did not protest having been too concentrated on his toy. The door closed not soon after to allow us time alone.

"You sounded fine over the phone," Quatre said while pocketing one hand. His expensive watch came into view. He could model for me any time he wanted. "You wanted my boy out of your office since you had prior engagements. Why the change of heart?"

I was a seasoned liar by now, but I couldn't lie to him. For that reason, I didn't answer.

"Samuel - I brought him with me because he insisted on meeting you," he continued.

Still, I did not respond. He couldn't have picked Samuel up in the time it took them to get here which meant that this guy was already with Quatre while we were talking over the phone. I wanted to reiterate the fact that I was angry. At the same time, I was also eyeing that delicious suit I wanted to tear off him.

"You're being childish," he said next.

"I'm not the one playing around," I finally answered.

"And that is what this is about," he said, raising his free hand into the air and dramatically raising his eyes to the sky in disbelief. "I was not planning to sleep with him just because you were busy today."

"You were planning to sleep with him whether or not I was busy today," I corrected him. "And do not attempt to correct me because I am not wrong. His hand on you was public foreplay."

I looked at him. He was a very attractive man. Who wouldn't attempt something - anything - on him? My hands itched to lock my door and attempt something with him despite the likely audience outside.

"I thought we agreed that we weren't exclusive," he said calmly.

While he did propose that we weren't exclusive, I never agreed to anything of the sort. I knew I should have considered it a fling, a momentary lapse of sanity if you will, but for some reason, I wanted him for the long run. Yes, I'm crazy to think that. I'm crazy because it was not feasible to get a serious commitment out of a man dead set on beating his wife at everything.

"You may take your leave," I said. I had more important things to do than ponder on the intolerable behavior of these individuals. I still did have that mediation in a few hours. That was no lie.

Quatre went around my desk and approached me. I feared him as I did not expect for him to do such a thing. Taking a perfectly manicured hand, he brushed his fingers against my cheek. This man had the ability to catch me off guard and that was slightly infuriating. I was paralyzed as I let him move my bang aside and kiss me very gently. The hairs at the back of my neck tingled and my stomach did flip-flops. What was I so angry about again?

I could no longer comprehend what was happening, but thankfully, Quatre's lips lost its purchase on mine. I realized that he was pulled roughly aside and I noticed this because the big man from earlier was ready to pummel Heero for doing so. Heero simply stared back at him with his best glare. Quatre told his bodyguard to back off for the time being, preventing the bloodshed I was fearing.

"In my office, now," Heero said. I stood to do what I was told. I was surprised when he told me to sit back down.

"Not you," he said, pointing at me. "You," he said with a growl at Quatre who followed him with no protest to the office just a door next to mine, but not before picking my nameplate off the floor and putting it back on its proper position.

I was curious. I wanted to hear everything they talked about but that was not necessary since I could hear Heero's perfectly audible words of warning through the apparently thin walls.

"Stay away from him," Heero said like a strict father.

I still placed my ear against the wall in order to hear better.

"Only if he could do the same," Quatre responded with not a note of temper in his voice. It was a smart-ass remark that would earn him Heero's contempt.

"I heard your conversation perfectly fine. You have invalid paperwork. Trowa may be young, but he's no idiot. He's not giving you that kid."

"Who said I was just coming for the kid?"

Like a thorn on my side, Samuel suddenly appeared. My ear was immediately taken out of its favorable position against the wall as my eyes reluctantly strayed to my latest intruder. He was grinning at me and I had inkling why.

"I didn't think you were the type to eavesdrop," he said.

I stared at him without responding. What was the point? He would deliver his next statement regardless of what I said.

"What do you like about him?" he asked next.

I somehow felt like today was the day I get interrogated. My interest in Quatre was simple really. He was an attractive older man. I like attractive men. I also like the often distorted sense of maturity older men tend to give off. That was probably the reason why I end up with flukes. I was too superficial, a flaw that will haunt me for the rest of my life as I go about trying to find someone, anyone both attractive and decent enough to keep me content. Yes, there will be numerous misses, and in fact, there have been several already, but I can't help but fall for them.

"Probably some of the qualities you like about him as well," I responded, purposefully keeping my answer as vague as possible.

"He's a sick fuck who picks up pretty little things with an even sicker sense of competitiveness. He's a manipulative, arrogant bastard with a pretty face and a lot of money."

I stared at this guy. He had pretty much summed up what Quatre was without going around in circles and dolling up the truth. I did almost forget that I somehow liked those things about him too.

"He's charming," I defended with a worthless response although I don't know why I did.

"He has a thing for you."

I waved my hand in dismissal. He had a thing for a lot of men. I wasn't surprised.

"No. I mean he has a _thing_ for you."

Somehow, that didn't clear up anything. I stared at this Samuel fellow before taking position behind my desk and ignoring him altogether. I was not one for small talk if any talk at all. If he was trying to catch me admitting to liking Quatre more than an ordinary fling, his attempts were useless. Not only was I a liar, I was a poker-faced miscreant who was anything if stubborn.

"You don't believe me," Samuel stated. I thought I spied a slight pout as he said it. That pout made him look younger; reminding me again that Mr. Winner was into those types.

"Then what are you?" I responded to him with a sigh. I was at least accommodating enough to humor him with the small talk he so wanted.

"I'm a passing interest. I've become passé and uninteresting, but he keeps me around because Dotty likes me a lot. I suppose you could say it pisses her off that I'm with him too."

"And you're agreeing to this arrangement, why?" I questioned next. Everyone had their motives. Mine was simple. I wanted Quatre Raberba Winner for myself because he was smoking hot. Again, I am shallow but at least I'm honest with myself.

"They're a fun couple. I guess you could say I get a kick out of seeing them argue."

Despite the allure of these selfish individuals, there was still a kid involved and that, in my book, was more important than all the fooling around these three potential parents were doing. None of them deserved the kid and so began my other dilemma. I was representing at least one of them.

"But still, I think he likes you too since you're good for his kid," Samuel said next.

"No, _you_ are," I responded without hesitation. "Constants are good and the fact that they're keeping you around makes you a constant. As long as you're not some criminal with an interest in children, you'll probably be the most likely candidate."

"Why thank you for the support, Mr. Barton," the Winner family toy said with a naïve smile, a smile that was probably worth a cover spread on some teenage girl's magazine.

"Please don't mistake a statement of fact for support," I said with disgust.

"Aww, don't be too haughty Mr. Trowa," he said in response. He definitely sounded condescending. "He's a liar you know. He still had me even when he was planning to have you."

I was not surprised. Being the liar that I also am, I could tell when someone was lying as well. An insignificant revelation such as that, coming from him of all people, did not affect me. However, as the case happened to be, I did not have to respond to his goading because both Heero and Mr. Winner showed up at my office door.

Quatre did not say a word. He just looked at me once before he left with his entourage. It was very much uneventful and I was disappointed that I was not able to speak to Quatre before he left. Heero revealed the child hiding behind his back and gave me a look that told me everything I needed to do. I called Dorothy immediately and because of Heero's threatening voice in the background. She came to pick him up not soon after.

I expected Heero to reprimand me as he looked at me critically after everyone had left and our office was cleared. I was ready for anything but what he said.

"Next time, use your dick on safer territory."

I think I turned a strange shade of purple as I heard the very busy, procrastinating Attorney Maxwell next door laugh and fall over his chair. That was about the harshest reprimand I would ever get from those two.


End file.
